


A Ghost Melody.

by Ghost__Writer



Series: Music to My Ears [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Character Death, Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dead Wilbur Soot, Drowning, Ghostbur!!! - Freeform, Guitars, Ice, Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Mild Blood, Music, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Piano, Snow and Ice, Vocals but not singing, WH, Why is piano & guitars tags but not harmonica???, but you knew that <3, guys make harmonica an official tag, harmonica, i am telling you there's blood, there is a sea of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28920018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost__Writer/pseuds/Ghost__Writer
Summary: Technoblade wakes up from a nightmare to see Ghostbur & Tommy jamming out. Tommy's doing that melody thing that only appears in his notes around the SBI. funky.--this is the second installment of Music To My Ears, if you haven't read the first part uhhh wELCOME?? kinda weirdyou didn't BUT I LIKE THAT YOU'RE HERE NONE THE LESS I'M HAPPY TO SEE YOU!!!but mayberead the first one?? idk if youwantitsur decisionpleasegivemeclout
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit
Series: Music to My Ears [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081451
Comments: 20
Kudos: 128





	A Ghost Melody.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Shãrd for checking this over for me! Their quotev is here vvvv  
> https://www.quotev.com/DoritoTheKitten  
> go check em out! :D
> 
> Another thanks to Anon for also checking it over and giving me a general opinion! You can read their fic here, it's VERY VERY Good vvvv  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/28763703/chapters/70533462
> 
> eNJOY THE FIC (hopefully!)

Technoblade wasn’t a stranger to the horrors of war, of what he’s done. He wasn’t new to being in the wrong, the villain. What he was new to, was redemption. Redemption that was rejected. He had tried, tried so hard to show others he had changed. That he abandoned ways that hurt them and himself. But deep down he didn’t, if the wither skulls had anything to say. 

So, he wasn’t too surprised that he had woken up where he did. It was a familiar place to him, one he would dream about every other day. The Throne, the voices would say, His Throne. The throne was built atop a sea of blood, everyone else drowning under the red liquid aside from the King. It was made of bone, withered and fresh alike, two skulls adorning the top. The seat itself was a red velvety cushion, soft and contrasting to the roughness of the throne itself. Techno gave a huff, all he had to really do was listen and take a seat.

But taking a seat wouldn’t equal good things, and he wasn’t up for listening to the Chat demand blood until he inevitably woke up. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t take a seat. 

Maybe he would walk away. 

So he turned around, and stepped back from the throne made for him, the King. He stepped away and left. Walking had apparently invited him to a place where weeping willows surrounded the area, this was good to know. The piglin hybrid froze as he heard whispers. Whispers that sounded like the voices of the Chat. Only the Chat was like a voice in his head. This was _real_. 

Cautiously glancing around, the hybrid noted hands reaching up, spindly and long with a color you would never be able to place. They reached out of the water, seemingly attempting to drag themselves towards him. The whispers got louder. He took this as his note to _run_. And run he did. He sped away, focused on escape than anything else. Techno didn’t see the hand would pop up right in front of him, tripping him and sending him to the bloody surface. He felt tugs, and the whispers felt so _loud_ and _overbearing_. He could barely tell what they were saying.

Techno attempted to lift himself up, but a spindly hand grasping at his wrist made him freeze slightly. What he didn’t expect, however, was plenty _more_ hands shooting up from the red, gripping onto him and tugging him under until he was floating under the red sea for the first time. He thrashed around, pulling at the arms that seemed to only increase in numbers. Panic was beginning to take hold. He shouldn’t have walked away, he shouldn’t. He should’ve gone to the throne and stayed and he didn’t and look where that got him. 

However, he could breathe. Well, it was a dream, but at least he wasn’t drowning like the other bodies, right? Techno continued to struggle up until he felt his feet hit something, and the world transformed from burgundy to.. the festival of Manberg. Technoblade looked around wildly, confusion turning to understanding. He was going to execute Tubbo. He looked at his rocket launcher, before turning to the scared teenager. He’d been in this nightmare before, enough to admit he’d been there. But it didn’t stop him from feeling nervous, from being scared. There were so many questions he had asked in his mind, so many. 

_Where was Wilbur? Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why were the only one giving him orders Schlatt? Why couldn’t he stop his hand from aiming? Why didn’t the colors kill Tubbo instantly?_ He would think restlessly during this nightmare. He hated this feeling because these were questions he never got answered. These were the questions that _will never_ get answered.

The one able to answer them had died before he could ask.

Technoblade shot, the firework exploding and leaving behind a puff of colored smoke. Turning around, he let his inner rage and bloodlust out on the rest of the festival attendees, smoke exploding in a glorious color and covering up the blood left behind. If he tried hard enough he could ignore the guilt pounding in his heart as he jumped off the podium and into the smoke. He landed in Pogtopia, looking around.

Here was Wilbur _motherfucking_ Soot, in all of his glory. Dressed up in his exiled outfit, the brown jacket tattered. It started out pristine and nice, a good independent fuck you to Manberg, but now the jacket had been cut away just like Wilbur's calm. His favorite red beanie, which had never left his head, was still there. It looked nice. It looked more alive than on the ghost of the man before him. If Technoblade squinted, he could see Tommy and Tubbo, in the too long version of Pogtopia.. No, Pogtopia was never this big. It was always small, cozy. It wasn't this huge. He felt dwarfed in this Pogtopia, this replica that felt over-sized and too intricate. However, his attention was brought back to Wilbur as the other cleared his throat,

“Hey there, Technoblade.” His voice was filled with the amusement that had corrupted him. “You still got those withers?”

Techno let himself smirk (and yet he tensed up.), enjoying the way the conversation was going. Techno was famous for having control of the Wither whereas others who summoned it would be forced to kill their creations early on. Techno made a deal with the King, after all, to become the Blood God. As long as Techno collected death, and blood, he would keep his power and keep the Wither under control,

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Good. Because I still got my gun.” That caught Techno’s attention. This wasn’t how the conversation went. _Gun?_ Sorry, Wilbur, what do you mean _gun?_ We have bows & arrows, crossbows if your fancy or rich enough. Guns are things inside books. What do you mean _gun?_ Wanting an explanation, Techno did what he always did when he was confused,

“Heh?”

“Chekhov’s Gun?? You know.. the blowing up of L’manberg and shit? I thought you’d know that.” It was less surprising now that he said Chekhov's Gun. See, Wilbur wouldn't shut up about plot devices and all that mumbo-jumbo bullshit so Techno has a minor knowledge of literature thanks to this nerd. But still, couldn't he have just said TNT and not be dramatic? _This_ , Wilbur, is why you have communication problems. Just _say normal words._ But none the less,

“I’m an English nerd not a literature nerd.” Techno (slightly) corrected. Everyone just assumed because you knew about grammar that you most definitely were into stories. Sadly, the only book Techno was actively into last was the Art of War. So, sorry Mythology nerds in Chat, he only knows sort of Theseus's tale,

“Fair enough. Well then, Technoblade, I’ll have my final dance where it was never meant to be.” Okay, well, points for trying nightmare if you wanted to make it sound like a natrual thing Wilbur would say. However, the final words were definitely on the nose, as Techno had only a little bit of time before he tried to take cover. The walls behind Wilbur crumbled to the ground as nothing was spared. Techno dodged rubble, and lost track of Wilbur. When the ravine finally stopped collapsing, Techno finally pulled himself out of the rubble, unharmed. However, he did see Philza Minecraft in all of his glory. Thank god- oh. 

In Philza's arms was Wilbur, blood trickling down his fingertips. An obvious attempt to stop the bleeding, to turn back time. Techno watched as Philza placed Wilbur down in a bed of untouched flowers and went to go pick the rubble up. This was the last time Philza would ever help his eldest son clean up his mess. Techno watched helplessly, his body unwilling to listen to him and _move_. He watched as Philza endlessly continued to pick up the rubble, a look of melancholy on his face. He looked older than he was. Philza walked past him, and finally Techno could move from his rooted spot. Quickly turning around to follow Philza, he stopped dead when he was on his porch in the middle of the Antarctic.

_He's on the ice!_

Technoblade geared himself up, ready for the Butcher Army. If they were going to come, he was going to make them _sorry_. He watched as the Army walked up to his house

_Don't let him go on the ice!_

It was a flurry of attacks, a dance that was beautiful on one side. One after another he took them out, throwing them into each other or taking them down. They respawned and kept coming, so he kept attacking. He needed blood. The red liquid had turned the pure white snow red, dying it the bloody color. He huffed, but stopped dead upon seeing Carl ( _family, horse, friend, family-_ ) held at knifepoint by Quackity. A desperate attempt to subdue the Red Warrior.

They'll regret this.

_He's gonna fall!_

He walked along in chains, hands locked behind his back uncomfortably. He was only tied down because if he wasn't, a type of precious red would spray the snow. Red he would rather keep inside his horse thank you very much. The ride was uncomfortable, and he tried to lighten the tension by making uber jokes. He could feel that this wasn't going to be a normal trial. He looked back to Carl, his horse swimming in the sea. He had fond memories of the horse, a fighter til' the end, just like Techno himself. The two were forged in the victories of War, and built with the souls in the sand.

The Butcher Army wouldn't see the light of day after this.

_He’s falling through!_

The cage felt too tight, too restricting for a trial. So it came to no surprise as once he was in the cage, it was revealed he was to die rather than be tried. Fun. Amazing. Great. Well then it was good he still had his totem. He waited patiently for something to happen, and something _did_ happen. Specifically, something was Punz and Punz was running around placing down explosives. Why? Techno didn't know, and didn't care. All he knew was that he was near the furthest point in his cage because if that shit goes off it is **not** taking him with this place that's for damn sure. Quackity flicked the switch in his panic, and Techno looked up.

_Quickly!_

He fell into ice before the anvil could hit, his hands suddenly free. He was okay, Carl was okay. What wasn't okay, however, was Tommy floating in the water. He was sinking yet not. The water felt huge. The teenager looked so small in the vast blue. But something wasn't right. Adrenaline seemed to kick in now as he fought desperately to get to the teen. Fought to save the youngest of his makeshift family. The water and currents seemed against him as he swam, glaciers that were never there in the memory threatening to crush him. He was almost there too! He saw a glacier heading for Tommy. Heading to _crush_ Tommy. And well? Another spike of adrenaline shot through his body.

Techno swam faster than he had ever in his life, rescuing the boy just before the glacier could hit. He noted a hole in the ice, one that looked like a break, and swam upwards. He dragged the limp body with him, kicking his feet and hoping endlessly he wasn't too late. Breaking through the water, Techno practically threw Tommy onto the shore. Frantically he tried to revive the other. Pushing against his heart until the ribs broke, trying to force air back into the lungs until he was out of breath. Nothing was working, but he continued to try anyhow. He tried again, and again, and again. He could hear the cracking of ribs, breaking further. He himself was dizzy now, light-headed from the loss of breath and no time to recover. But he couldn't stop. Tommy couldn't be gone.

So he tried, and he tried, and he tried.

But he wasn't successful. Philza had found him and Tommy at sunset, a frantic version of Techno trying endlessly to revive a dead body. That very day, they lost another part of their small make-shift family. Little did they know, that morning would be the last Techno would hear of Tommy's annoying (great) voice. Techno realized what happened by midnight, sitting next to the already burned body.

He failed to protect Tommy. He failed to do one thing: keep Tommy alive.

_ But didn’t Tommy fail you, oh so long ago? _

The soft sound of music drifted into his ears as he closed his eyes in grief.

And then he opened them in groggy confusion which was mostly given because he just woke up. Well _that_ was certainly a nightmare. Note to self: sit in throne. Gotcha. Techno rubbed his head, listening to the voices wake up and yell at him (sort-of kind-of.) to get up, do something. Not go back to sleep because it's obvious he doesn't need sleep right? The sound of music, however, coming from the downstairs made him stop. It was a soft guitar and piano noise mostly with other accompanying instruments. The piglin hybrid put on his slippers and went to the ladder.

Heading downstairs into the main room, he wasn’t surprised to find the two ghosts. Tommy and Ghostbur. They were seemingly having a little music session, which was cute. However, what caught Techno’s ears was the melody. This specific melody would play whenever Tommy was excited and music’d to the other members of the “sleepy bois inc.”. It intrigued Techno mildly, considering the melody was mostly hard to find in his notes. Almost like it was never there. A ghost melody, of sorts. (heh.. heheh. Roll credits.) It was loud enough to hear in the room, yet not loud enough to wake up the entire house. A pleasant thing to wake up to. Technoblade made an ahem sound to make his presence known. The music stopped abruptly, Tommy and Ghostbur looking at the cause of the noise and seeing a bedhead Techno.

Of course, Tommy's first instinct was to laugh, harmonica coming out in wheezes,

“Technoooo!” The elder ghost said, tone hopeful. “How are you doing on this fine night? Tommy and I were just having a conversation!” 

That’s what Ghostbur called him and Tommy’s little music get-together. A conversation, because music was the only way Tommy could communicate now. Techno gave a small smile,

“I’m doing fine Ghostbur.”

“Would you like to join us? You could play your violin!”

Technoblade blinked at the ghost. Now, don't get him wrong, he enjoyed music as much as the next guy but he really didn't want to dig his violin out of his closet. Especially since he hadn't touched his violin in **years**. Let alone was he awake enough to play it at full capacity. So, now came the dilemma of how do reject very nice and honestly sort of sad already ghost who wanted him to play his violin? Simple, make an excuse and hope it works,

“Uhhh sorry Ghostbur. I lost my violin like.. yeeaaars ago. Years. And I haven't gotten a new one. Sorry Ghostbur." Apparently this made the ghost pout and well.. it was a form of peer pressure and everyone knew how Techno did with peer pressure so you absolutely _cannot_ blame him or call him weak when he goes,

“But I’d like to listen!” And yeah, Tommy was definitely laughing, harmonica coming out of his mouth as he laughed at the Mighty Blood God™’s actions. If Techno threw a piece of lint at him, nobody noticed because Ghostbur gave a “Yaay!” and had Techno sit down next to him.  Techno listened as they started up again, piano turning into violin to make up for the lack of Techno. The music was soothing almost, soft and kind of feeling like you were on a huge meaningful self-discovering travel. It was cheesy, something you'd probably find in movies. But it was also soothing, kind of like a lullaby. He could feel his eyes drooping.

If Techno fell asleep with no nightmares, well, nobody had to know.

**Author's Note:**

> UH WOW YOU MADE IT TO THE END imaa give you cookie  
> uhh would y'all prefer actually like  
> written shit  
> or just simple format like  
> \- x  
> \- y  
> \- z  
> or both so you guys can like. get a skeleton of what written shits probably gonna lok like but also get written shit???
> 
> ALSO LASO if you ever want to make a fic using htis concept yoU ARE FREE TO DO SO!!! just link me the fic bc i'd read the shit out of it and i SUPPORT YOU!!!!  
> last but not least if you have any ideas for headcanons  
> uh  
> pls comment i'd love to see them


End file.
